


such is summer

by quietmoon



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Grinding, M/M, Making Out, Nostalgia, Open-Mouthed Kisses, it's just ur typical slow lovely foreplay making out on a sticky summer afternoon, teehee, um idk i guess also
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-05
Updated: 2017-05-05
Packaged: 2020-07-28 15:08:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20066029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quietmoon/pseuds/quietmoon
Summary: Iwa-chan is giddy with the promise of a sticky summer afternoon and a pliant lover only too willing to lick the sweat off, and Tooru adores him for it.





	such is summer

**Author's Note:**

> _reposted from my [orphaned work](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10830090) with AO3's permission_

There are some things in this world Oikawa Tooru will just never get enough of.

Milkbread.

Volleyball.

'Back to the old freezerinos.'

One certain Iwaizumi Hajime, currently brushing soft lips along Tooru's jaw and whispering pretty words into his skin...

"Iwa-chan." Tooru giggles as his boyfriend's lips tickle the sensitive spot under his jaw.

His breath is heated and wet against the heated skin in the soft hollow of his collarbone, his back warm through the thin shirt, firm planes of muscle rippling under Tooru's fingers as Iwa-chan shifts his weight from one forearm to the other. The man in question huffs amusedly, pressing a kiss right below Tooru's ear, taking a moment to admire the minute shiver it elicits.

"Sensitive?"

Tooru bites his lip and frowns. "You know I am."

Hajime's deep laugh reverberates through Tooru, right down to the bones, his ribcage, his squeezing heart. "I do," he murmurs, nosing up the column of Tooru's exposed throat. "Intimately well." Another kiss, this time lips barely brushing the shell of his ear. "I love that about you."

Tooru wishes he wouldn't blush so easily, not after so long — at this stage, three years into their romantic relationship, it's just plain embarrassing. But no matter how many times he hears him say it, Iwa-chan always makes even the most subtle connotations, the most throwaway phrases, sound like they're coming straight from his heart. Honestly, Tooru doesn't know how he does it. This is the same boy who wouldn't speak to a girl until he turned fourteen, the same boy who made his mother drive through a typhoon because of one shaky-voiced call and insisted to Tooru he was 'in the neighbourhood' as he dripped a puddle of water onto the gym floor (which—_so cute_). His Knight in Rainwater Armour, Tooru had joked semi-seriously, letting his best friend carry his wait as they limped to his mother's car.

And yet, here he is, the Tsundere King for all intents and purposes, casually murmuring confessions that are so genuine it hurts, same as yesterday, same as he'll do tomorrow._I love that about you_, Tooru repeats in his mind, and an unbidden smile curls his lips. His chest tightens at the sudden rush of an all-consuming, all-encompassing fondness.

"You're all red," Hajime points out, ruining it instantly.

Tooru sniffs, affronted. "Don't get any special ideas, Iwa-chan. I'm all flushed, that's all. It's too hot. Get off me."

But it just makes Hajime laugh again. Tooru doesn't even try to hide his pout. (It's fine, Hajime confessed he liked Tooru's face even when he's sulking that one time to Makki anyway. He knows exactly what he's doing.)

"_Move._" Tooru wiggles to prove his point, hands curling around Hajime's biceps in direct contrast to his words. "Go away. You're too hot."

"Thanks, babe. You're plenty cute yourself."

"Wh—! Sneak attack, Iwa-chan!" Tooru makes an annoyed noise in the back of his throat, ignoring the the way his stomach flips at his boyfriend's smirk. "Come on, please, it's like—" his breath hitches as lips press, light as a feather, to the tendon where neck meets shoulder "—thirty degrees, you're a walking space heater. Have mercy on your poor sexy boyfriend and get off me—"

Green eyes flash. "Get you off?"

Tooru chokes, "G-Get _off_ me!" He yells when all he gets in reply is the full weight of Hajime flopped on top of him, "Iwa-chan!"

"_Tooru!_" Hajime whisper-mimics cheekily, grinning up at him.

It's impossible not to return it. And Tooru does, beaming, blushing, before craning up to capture his lips in another soft kiss. Hajime meets him halfway and deepens it, smiling into the open-mouthed kiss as he rungs a gentle thumb along Tooru's cheekbone.

It would be lying to say Tooru didn't love it when Hajime got like this. It's hardly like he's serious all the time, but over the years Tooru's watched as the boyish charm evolved into enigmatic intimidation, something Hajime naturally exudes now without even trying. So when that demeanor does slip, when he's particularly sleepy or in a very good mood — or, as is the case now, giddy with the promise of a sticky summer afternoon and a pliant lover only too willing to lick the sweat off (contrary to what meets the eye) — the nostalgia hits Tooru full force. It feels like they're eight years old again, running around with grubby hands and scraped knees in the full-blast heat of August, tackling the season for all it's worth.

_Well._ Tooru gasps as Iwa-chan's searching fingers skate along the strip of skin where his shirt has ridden up, exhales blissfully against the kiss pressed to the corner of his lips. _It's a different sort of game now._

There are some things that have changed.

Hajime curls his fingers, lightly skimming the back of his nails up Tooru's stomach. A throaty whine gets trapped behind Tooru's lips.

"I-Iwa-chan—" he swallows. "Stop playing around, come on."

"Hmm?" His fingers smooth down the dip of Tooru's abs until they reach the soft patch of hair above his jeans. Hajime leans down and kisses him again, short and sweet. "What was that?"

"You're—" Tooru bucks his hips up in attempt to flip them over but Hajime's faster than him, locking his knees on either sides of Tooru's hips with a wicked grin. "Stop it, _Iwa-chan_—" He goes for Hajime's sides, full intent to tickle until he yields (and maybe even a bit more), but again, his wrists are caught in waiting hands and he pushes Tooru until his back is against the bed, chests pressed together. All of a sudden, Tooruo feels breathless, staring up into familiar eyes. They're beautiful. Iwaizumi Hajime is so beautiful. "D-Don't be so mean..." he eventually manages, voice coming out rougher than he means it to.

Hajime is still smiling softly, lips a scant few centimetres from Tooru's. "I'm not being mean," his whispers back.

Tooru tries to buck his hips again, instead met with the firm resistance of Hajime's own. It's its own kind of punishment, sweet as the pressure is. He pouts. "Not fair."

"I thought you said you wanted to stop playing around." There's a dark lilt to Hajime's words, a promise to satisfy. Tooru suppresses a quiet moan. But then Hajime's fingers are slowly, slowly inching their way up Tooru's ribs again, and he huffs out a sigh.

"You're so immature, Iwa-chan."

A butterfly kiss against his cheek. "Are you calling me childish?"

Another on the tip of his nose, painfully endearing. Tooru wrinkles it. "You're acting childish."

One to his other cheek. "Am not."

When he moves again, Tooru catches him in a surprise kiss, bringing a hand up to the back of Hajime's head. Hajime lets him tilt into it and deepen the kiss, parts his lips in invitation to Tooru's tiny licks and groans in appreciation when their tongues meet in slow teasing strokes. The tension in the room, previously hovering above them, settles it's delicious weight on their chests and warms them through. Heat coils through Tooru's gut, Hajime's quiet panting delicious on his lips.

They break apart and Tooru grins through uneven breaths, playing with a stray strand of sweaty hair flopped over Hajime's forehead. "Are so. Iwa-_chan_."

Hajime just smirks, fingers skating at Tooru's sides and threatening to tickle in relatiation.

Tooru narrows his eyes. "Don't you dare."

"Don't think I would?"

"Isn't there something you want more?" He lowers his eyelids, lets his lips stretch into a languid smile. When he presses his hips up again, with purpose this time, the glint of amusement in Hajime's eyes darkens and turns into something else entirely. He presses in for another kiss, this time without any preamble or hesitation, and groans ever so sweetly into Tooru's mouth when he grinds against him.

There are few things in this world Oikawa Tooru can never get enough of, and the heavy weight of his best friend in the whole entire world on top of him, kissing him senseless, a promise of more hovering above him, is definitely one of those things.


End file.
